


In the pines

by KilltheRhythm



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Adventure, Fluff, Gen, Horror, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Surprise surprise guys I still can't write forwards, all of the titles are from old blues songs, german NT on holiday, some violence, sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:49:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8662819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilltheRhythm/pseuds/KilltheRhythm
Summary: The German NT go on vacation, with some mixed results. Marco, Sami, Thomas, Julian and Max disappear mysteriously, and the others barely seem to notice (or maybe they do).





	1. In the pines

Marco sets another foot down in the woods, and wonders for possibly the thousandth time why he agreed to do this. One of the major constants in his life was a low tolerance for creepy shit, and this was definitely creepy. Marco didn't like horror movies, but he had seen enough of them to know when a troop of dumb white boys enters the woods, they're gonna die.

To his right, Max tilts back his head and wails. This is not how anyone wanted to spend the start of break, but when Julian loses his dog, it's hard not to be persuaded into helping find it. Even if it's in the middle of the creepy-ass woods. Thomas tells Max to shut up, but it's not whole-heartedly, and the bitterness in his voice is obvious. No one wants to be here.

"Julian, if we do not find your dog in the next fifteen minutes, we're turning back." Sami grumbles from the back of the group, and only then did Marco remember the older man agreeing to go. He hadn't said why, but Julian had dragged him along all the same.

Marco hopes that they would turn back sooner than that though. The sun is starting to set, and the tall thin trees of the forest cast long, ominous shadows. This is some solid horror movie shit, and Marco was not here for that. Once again he wishes that he'd stayed back with the other teammates.

"Guys! I think I saw him!" Julian yells and runs ahead. Sami, Marco, Thomas and Max look at each other, and then follow him.

Julian is far deeper in the woods, and as the other four Germans try to claw their way through the dense forest, they wonder how the hell Julian had even seen his dog through all the growth. The trees are taller, shadier, and suddenly not there at all.

There is a clearing, near perfectly circular, with a large stone in the center, and smaller stones bordering far out from it. Julian has already entered, but his dog is no where to be seen. Interested in the strange rocks, Thomas jogs out to see, and then Max follows. Not wanting to be alone, Sami and Marco join the group inside the circle.

The second his foot steps in, Marco knows he's made a horrible mistake. Suddenly it is far darker, heavy black clouds rolling in and the smell of a wood fire hangs deeply in the air. Wind blows through in sheets, freezing cold for the summer, and the trees bend like wires, submitting to this inhuman turn of events.

Marco sees Max and Julian visibly shudder, and he turns to flee, but the stone circle has grown very tall, the small rocks bordering it turning into giant, human-esque pillars of statues, thin and rectangular, but spreading out to form locking arms. He tries to scream, but no sound comes from his throat, and the darkness is so swiftly approaching suffocating that Marco feels that he has irrevocably ruined something.

He hears footsteps and hopes that it is Auba, Auba who is always there at the right time, and always knows when to lend Marco a hand. Then he remembers that Auba is in Gabon, and that is not happening. No one will come to save him, and that's when the panic sets in.

Max actually does manage to yell, and Marco turns in that direction, having only just realized he was frozen in place for who knows how long. When he sees what Max has seen, he gets why the younger man was so afraid. People with the skulls of animals approached, swiftly and with spears, covered in a mixture of clothing and pelts.

The statues were now both shadows and men, spreading their arms wide as they framed the heavens, still so overcast and black. Fire cracked throughout the air.

\----

Mesut sat on his bed, laptop sitting not too far away. Mathieu was on the other end, and Mesut was starting to wonder if skyping for a solid hour and a half had physical side effects. It was Mathieu though, and Mesut would do next to anything for him.

Manuel knocks on the door and Mesut winces in the general direction of the computer. Mathieu gives him a swift goodbye, tells him he loves him, and Mesut tries to do the same without being too rushed or flustered. His cheeks are still heating up when the goalkeeper enters the room.

"Mes, have you seen Thomas? We were supposed to have a rematch at Mancala." Manuel asks, and then holds up an actual Mancala board. Mesut sometimes wonders if his teammates (specifically Manuel and Thomas) have the mental age of elementary schoolers. It wouldn't be surprising.

"He left with Sami and some of the others to go find Julian's dog. They should be back soon." Mesut says, and looks out the window. A storm is coming in. He hopes for their sake that they'll be back before it starts raining.

Manuel walks out into the main room of the small lodge. Sometimes he wonders why Löw always arranges these "team-building" retreats, but he decides it's nice. He hasn't been in much of eastern Germany for non match-related purposes, but it was beautiful, more rural than where he lived. He then decides that now would be a good time to practice his Mancala skills. Thomas was going to go down when he got back.

Spotting the perfect person to play against, he slide into the chair across the table from Mario. The younger German is tapping away on his phone, bag of pretzel bites by his side and has not even noticed Manuel's presence. Eventually he looks up at Manuel. "I'm guessing you want me to play your old man game?"

Manuel sighs, but nods. Mario eventually gives in after enough pressuring, but it's not the same as having a willing opponent. He had been wrong when he assumed that Mario would show interest in his board game. There's a difference between Thomas's enthusiasm and Mario's sass (and love for pretzel bits).

It makes victory all the sweeter though, when he beats Mario, who has been trash talking him the entire time. He stands up to tower above Mario, gloating in all of his mock aggression. "Take that, Götze, you fat piece of shit!" He pokes Mario right in the chub of his stomach, and the younger man rolls his eyes.

"I hope Thomas comes back soon, you can stop bothering us then." Mario grumbles, stalking off to go find somewhere else where he can charge his phone and eat his pretzel bites in peace.

\----

Thomas wakes up, lying on his back, with the most pounding headache of his life. It feels as if his skull has cracked open, nails driven into his body. He must have been hit over the head, he decides. Trying to get up, he leans forward and then shifts more weight onto his hands, but realizes that there is shooting pain in the digits of his left hand. Those fingers are almost certainly broken.

Slowly, he props himself up on his elbows, trying to cause himself the least pain while his eyes adjust to the low light. It's hard when everything hurts, but eventually he's able to survey his surroundings. He's in some sort of log cabin, a small bed of coals with low flames in the center of the floor. A tiny hole in the ceiling funnels away the smoke, and there appears to be no other rooms than the huge one he is in right now.

Upon a full sweep of the room, there is a rug not too far away. It looks softer than the hard earth Thomas is on, and suddenly he has no other want on earth than to lie on it, to be more comfortable. Without much more on his mind, he begins to drag himself over into the rug.

The rug is closer to the fire, warmer. Upon reaching it after what seems like an hour of effort, Thomas collapses onto the thing. A heavy tiredness spreads throughout his limbs, and the new heat from the fire seeps into his bones. Still so exhausted, he lets his eyes fall shut again, and falls deep into a dark, dreamless slumber.

Sami watches this happen, somewhat awake in his corner of the room. He too feels tired, but tries to summon up the energy to righten himself. Once up on his feet, he feels slightly more energetic, or at least less lethargic.

He paces around the room, walks past Thomas and over to where Marco is. He slides a hand over Marco's shoulder, shakes him slightly. The blonde is completely limp, moves like a rag doll. Sami hisses his name, shakes him harder.

Marco eventually opens his bleary eyes, a large bruise underneath one. It's going to become a black eye, Sami knows that. Marco's dry mouth parts open, reveals pearly teeth and makes the smallest of noises "Sami?" He pauses, coughs. "What's going on?"

Sami pushes the dark strands of hair that flop in front of his eyes, looks around to anywhere that isn't Marco or Thomas. He then spies Julian flopped out on the ground, chest moving slowly with each breath. Past Julian is Max, pale skin covered in a layer of the earth, and he's unsure if the younger man is even breathing. "Fuck, I don't know."

Sami leaves Marco to rouse himself, moves past Julian, who is now starting to come to, and all the way over to Max. He stands above him, peers down and looks for a sign of life. Squatting closer, he slides a palm over Max's neck. The pulse is slow, but there, and Sami can feel slow, shallow breaths pull through the blonde man's windpipe.

\----

Bastian turns off the TV, Lukas snoring softly next to him, head lolling back in the couch only a foot or so away. How the other man had fallen asleep watching something like Narcos was near impossible to understand. Bastian gives Lukas a solid push off of the couch, and only then does the other man wake. He looks up at Bastian, angry for just a fraction of a second, and then his mouth curves up in a familiar smile.

"Hey asshole," he says, pulling himself up so he can stand again. "I was having the perfect nap."

Bastian rolls his eyes, strolls into the kitchen. "The episode ended, I got bored."

Lukas is crafting a response when Manuel jogs in, slightly sweaty and out of breath. He still has his shoes on, and his hair is messy and windblown. He pants for a second, and then with a great deal of panic he begins to speak. "Have you seen Thomas? I've been looking for him for the past thirty minutes. I looked through the entire inn, I walked through the garden, I went into the fucking woods! I can't find him."

Bastian looks at Lukas. Lukas looks at Bastian. Bastian gives him a certain glance, and Lukas shrugs. "We haven't seen him."

Bastian is quick to add "Have you tried calling him?"

The sense of panic is swiftly rising from the goalkeeper. His voice is near breaking, and he rips his phone out of his pocket, shoves it into Bastian's face. "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVEN'T TRIED THAT?!"

On the recently called list, there is a whopping number of 23 attempted phone calls next to Thomas's name. Bastian winces. Usually Thomas picked up by the second ring.

"Hey, I think he went out with Julian, Max, Sami and Marco! They were walking Jule's dog." Lukas says, eyes brightening up in memory. They hadn't left too long ago, or maybe they had, sleep always messed with his perception of time.

Manuel sighs and sulks away, dejected and morose, murmuring something under his breath that Lukas and Bastian cannot hear. He thinks about asking Mats or Howedes, but they're playing cards with the other Mario, Ter Stegan and Bernd.

Mats raises a brow as Manuel stomps past. The blonde had never been subtle, and this was nothing out of the ordinary, but still concerning. Bad moods for Manuel were rare. "What's with him?"

Mario Gomez shrugs. "Beats me. Probably frustrated with the wifi here. It sucks." The others nod in agreement. The wifi does indeed suck here.

Marc slides down two cards, a king of spades and the three of hearts, both face down. "I think it might have something to do with Thomas being gone for so long."

Bernd eyes him suspiciously. "Bullshit!" Everyone stares at him for a second, but then he points to the rather large pile of cards in the center. Ter Stegan grits his teeth and picks up the pile. "Marc's right, definitely because of Thomas."

All of the men at the table were surprised, stock-still for a few seconds. Marc-Andre and Bernd never agreed on anything, and they never called each other by their first name. Shaking off the surprise, Benedikt lays down his cards and begins to speak. "They've been gone for a while, haven't they?"

His words are met with small nods and remarks on how dark it was getting. Manuel wants to scream. Did anyone care that five teammates were missing?

\----

Marco, Thomas, Sami, Julian and Max all huddle together near the fire, everyone finally conscious and present. The flame from the coals had grown a little larger, brighter and warmer and occasionally cracking. The ambience from it would be fantastic if they weren't all broken, bruised and bloody, sitting on the earthen floor of a cabin that they had no memory of entering.

Max's head leans against Sami, and the older man keeps an arm near him, protecting and calming. The doors in the cabin are all locked, and there are no windows, just the hole in the ceiling too small and too high to escape out of. The rapidly darkening indigo sky shifts above, occasionally clearing and clouding over.

No one bothers to speak, just exchange dour looks and wonder how their lives came to this; professional athletes for a World Cup winning team kidnapped and left to die in the rural part of their country. Julian wonders first if his poor, sweet little dog is dead now, and then realizes that there is no point in worrying over that as he could very well die. Thomas himself was only questionably awake, eyes still mostly lidded and face devoid of his usual bright expression.

He's definitely not asleep when he jolts, like everyone else, when the cabin door swings open. Two figures, one very small and hunched over, one less small, and heavily cloaked. The fire roars to life in their presence, better illuminating the cabin.

Sami eyes the two women who have entered, neither looking like they were too threatening, but clearly more dangerous than by first glance. The smaller one was an ancient lady, with leathery skin the color of the red earth that they sat upon, and thick grey hair braided out of her face, revealing bright golden eyes that were more like those of a canine than a human. The taller one was a young woman with skin the color and evenness of porcelain and eyes the color of grass. A heavy hooded black cloak covered most of her form.

The elderly woman beckons them out of the cabin, and though none of them seem to will their muscles to move, they get up and follow the two ladies. Everyone remains hush, quietly looking around as they left the heavy wooden building.

The air seemed so much lighter, cooler and easy to breath as they left, and Julian finds himself taking greedy gasps of air, filling his lungs with what seemed so much cleaner. As they left the cabin, and then the clearing that the cabin was in, venturing into the woods, the smell of incense grew strong.

They walked through the woods, until they reached a new clearing, where there was a chair on what appeared to be stilts. Two shorter chairs stood on either side of it, a large mat in front of the three. On the tallest chair, there was a figure that seemed to be more grey than flesh toned, wrapped in what one would most likely describe as a robe, with a crown of leaves on its head, nestled deeply into long blonde hair.

The people on either side of the grey-ish person were even stranger looking. Both wore nicer suits, but their heads seemed to be that of goats. There was a deep and profound wrongness to this, something that all five athletes could tell as soon as they saw the three beings in front of them.

"I see you have the intruders," the figure in the center says, and now that it speaks, the five can tell that it is a woman, a woman so pale she is near translucent. "Come here now, you are not in danger."

Marco touches his black eye, and then looks at the others, bruised and bloody. She was lying, had to be. Still, he moves forward, onto the mat. He stares up at the woman on the tall chair, chest moving slow as he looks up at her wooden features.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks, far less polite than any of the others would be.

The greyish woman scowls. "I am the Speaker of the Law." Suddenly, standing upon the mat, looking up at the unholy trio before them, the feeling of being on trial was truly felt.

The next thirty minute seem to pass by so slowly, the Speaker of the Law dictating that they had trespassed by appearing on the land of her people (and none of the five were even sure how that had happened, or what was going on, but no one dared say a word).

"It is the Law," she dictates, and suddenly people are swarming up to the clearing, surrounding them, with hundreds of pairs of bright eyes fixed on the center of the clearing. "To live amongst the others, to not claw at the tree or steal from the woods, that is the Law."

The voices begin to recite along with her words, some infernal chorus. "Hers is the House of Pain. Hers is the Hand that makes. Hers is the Hand that wounds. Hers is the Hand that heals. Hers is the lightning flash. Hers is the deep, salt sea. Hers are the stars in the night."

Julian stares at Max, then at Sami. The crowd that has formed around her chants the words, and the air vibrates, rings with the intensity of their voices. There's something that makes Julian want to follow along, chant like this crowd of foreign bodies, but he tries his hardest not to.

Max looks back at him and mouths the words "is this a dream?". Julian shakes his head, more than a little worried. This was pretty freaky, far freakier than the scary movies that Bastian and Lukas had convinced him to watch once (and those had given him nightmares for a solid month, so based off of that, he'd be sleeping badly for the next half year).

"Now we may begin the trial." The Sayer of the Law states firmly. The two goat headed men on either side of her seem to be whispering "accept it, accept it" but that could also easily be his imagination. All of this could be in his imagination.

A stick pokes him in the back, forces him forward onto the mat again. Julian gulps. This wasn't in his imagination at all.


	2. house of the rising sun

Mario is doing possibly the best he's ever done at Candy Crush. He's killing it, no, crushing it. Thomas would be jealous of how well he was doing right now. Usually Candy Crush wasn't something competitive, but damn, Mario was good enough to make it a competitive sport.

The door to his room clicks open, interrupting his inner monologue on how god-tier he was, the one true champion of this app. He ignores it, no one is going to kill his vibe tonight. No one. Not when he was doing this good.

"Mario?" Mesut says, peering down at him with large eyes. Well, Mesut's eyes are large all the time, but the meaning stays, Mario thinks to himself. "Have you seen Marco?"

Mario shakes his head, looks back at his game as he mumbles no. He doesn't know why people think he and Marco were still best buds. They hadn't been since he left for Bayern, hadn't had an actual full conversation since.

(Mario pushes down any rising feelings of guilt he may have at how the friendship ended. Marco had said something about being gay, and was probably coming onto him for all Mario knew.

Yeah, coming onto him. Yeah. Mario swallows hard. His adam's apple bobs as he tries to calm his nerves, quell the rising swell of guilt that has his vocal cords all tangled up. He's not going to feel bad about this, not tonight when he's doing the best he's ever done at Candy Crush.

Still, he can see Marco lowering his head, eyes brimming with tears. Can hear Marco tell him to _just go away please, please Mario, just leave_.)

"Nah, I think he's still out with the others. Why are you asking?"

Mesut looks only mildly concerned, standing at the doorway with his arms akimbo. "They've been gone for ages now. Manuel's going to have an aneurysm if they don't show up soon."

Mario makes a tiny 'tsk' noise. Manuel liked overreacting. "He should calm down."

"Mario, it's pitch black outside. I think everyone's starting to get worried."

Mario peels his eyes from his tablet to look out the window. Indeed, it's fantastically dark outside, inky black waves of clouds covering the sky like smoke, and the trees convulsing in the wind as if they were dancing. A storm was coming.

 _Oh_.

\----

The trial had seemed to go on for ages, all of the laws and customs so nonsensical that not even Thomas could make heads or tails of them, and he operated best in chaos. It ended with the Sayer of the Law declaring them trespassers (at this point the five had absolutely no idea what was going on, not even a semblance of the plot), and then pulling Julian and Max away from the group.

The other three don't know what to do, they cannot stop the people from taking their two friends, not when they are outnumbered and out armed. One of the beast-like men who walks Max and Julian away turns to give the other three a sympathetic look, and then they know that Julian and Max will be okay. It is comforting, but only barely.

The rest of the night is pretty much a blur for Marco, so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open. They end up getting ushered off to a different house, still made of logs. There, they are given matts to rest on, and though they're fantastically uncomfortable, everyone near instantly falls asleep.

Thomas sees himself in a dark, dark space. The ground is hard, but also powdery, and he sits there for a second, wondering where he is. The dirt is everywhere, on his skin, in his hair, but he doesn't seem to care. Slowly he gets to his feet, and takes a step forward.

Then the earth spins, and he's on red clay ground, rock formations all around him and a cascade of stars in the indigo night sky. He can smell strong woodsmoke, and hear the faintest of chants, and is drawn to walk towards the music. It leads him to a nearby tower of rocks, but in the blink of an eye it is a Minotaur.

Not a Minotaur. A man with the head of a buffalo. Buffalo man. Instinctively, he puts his hands on the snout of the thing, digging into shaggy hair and feeling the warmth of the creature.

 _You shouldn't have come here_ , he hears it say, _this is no place for man._ Or doesn't hear it. The buffalo man's mouth never moved, but Thomas definitely understood it's words.

"Why?" He asks, furrowing his brow. He can see himself in the dark eyes of the buffalo, and he's shocked to see how much of a child he looks like. He looks small and scared, unwell but also youthful.

 _This is the land of gods. You mortals don't belong. You will fade away and die_. Buffalo man says, and even though his words are apocalyptic, they're reassuring to Thomas.

"But what about the people I saw at the trial?" Thomas asks, and wonders how even that sounds youthful when it is raspy beyond recognition.

 _They are from a long time ago. When people still believed in us, when man was not yet man_. Buffalo man says, and in the back of Thomas's mind, he can see the people, half man and half beast, rummaging through the woods.

Thomas looks down, pulls his hands away from the buffalo man's fur. They're pale, cream colored and tinged by the blue glow and the starlight is reflected in them. His arms are the same color, and he realizes he can see the stars in them, that they're slowly fading, becoming nothing. His is disappearing. Frightened, he begs the buffalo man to tell him how to escape.

 _You will find a way. I know you will. There is a trick to it; you do it or you die. Godspeed, young one_. And with that, the sky fell, crashing down and the entire earth became dark blue, tangled in a spiderweb of stars.

Marco should've known that it was a dream right off that bat, on account that he was back in Dortmund, with Auba and Lukasz and Roman and Felix and the others, but dreams tend to omit logic in that sort of that way.

It's a victory at home, right there at Signal Iduna Park, he can see the wall of yellow. People are screaming, and he's scored the winning goal. Bayern are huddling together, sad and unmotivated with their loss. Marco wants to hop up and yell, turn to Mario and punch him in the face because maybe he still wants revenge for being called a 'faggot' from his supposed best friend.

Instead he does the nice thing and turns back to his own teammates. Everyone hugs him, and the excitement continues on that night. Everyone parties, even Christian and Felix, who aren't old enough to legally go clubbing but do anyways. He drinks champagne with Auba, who is in his stupid golden suit, and somehow they end up back at Auba's house together.

Again, he should have known that this is a dream, when Auba pushes him into his bedroom and straddles him, shiny suit jacket now crumpled on the floor next to Marco's nicest pair of black jeans. He lies there with his back pressing into the mattress, Auba on top of him and thinks, _Fuck yes_. He's wanted this forever.

Just when things are getting particularly good, he wakes up, cheeks burning red and more than a little embarrassed. He looks around at the others, and then down at the situation in his pants, and is very glad that everyone else is still all asleep.

\----

Auba is somewhere in the woods, running and yelling. He swings the beam of his flashlight through a path and sees nothing. He continues to jog about, looking for any signs of anyone. Even though it's summer, it's damn cold, and he tries to repress a few shivers.

Eventually he spots a familiar flash of blonde hair, and his heart races. He runs forward as fast as possible, only to be blocked by a grey sheet of rock suddenly growing up out of the ground. He side steps it, enters a circle made by these tall rocks.

His heart plummets past his shoes and through to the center of the earth when he sees what is going on in the middle of the circle. Indeed, Marco is there, but lying bloody and beaten on a flat rock. His skull is cracked open, his chest still and unmoving. Auba runs forward to cradle the man to his body, begging him to not be dead, but Marco is already so, so cold.

He wails, tears running down his cheeks, looking down at Marco. Then, he jolts forward in bed, sitting up and breathing heavy. It's still dark outside, and indeed he was sobbing, pillow and cheeks wet from crying. But it was just a dream. Oh thank god, it was only a dream.

The club season had just ended, and international break was yet to start. Clearly this bad dream was result of having pent up energy from not training or playing 24/7, Auba rationalizes. Still, the image of the woods and his best friend left dead on some sacrificial alter will not leave his head, and frankly, it's disturbing.

He can't go back to sleep, so he takes a 4:00 AM stroll, whistling French pop tunes and trying to distract himself. Yet, every time he closes his eyes, he can see his best friend laying in that circle, dead. He shudders, and decides to text Marco. That'll take his mind off of everything.

\----

Bastian wakes up to some annoying chorus of a rap song, with a crick in his neck and a heavy tiredness in his bones. He peels himself off of the couch, realizing that he must have fallen asleep there, and then hunts for the offending source of the song. It turns out to be Marco's phone, plugged into the wall to charge.

He finally realizes what the song was, it was the one written about Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang by the aforementioned footballer's brother. Of course Marco would have that as the text tone for his best friend. Peering down, and feeling a tiny bit voyeuristic, he moves closer to inspect the text.

"Bro, I had the worst dream. Hopefully break is treating you good." Bastian says, reading the words in English. He turns away, and then the phone rings again. Gritting his teeth, he shifts back around and puts it on silent, but still reads the message. "Be safe. I've heard creepy shit about eastern Germany."

Bastian rolls his eyes and plops back down on the couch. He closes his eyes, still content for reasons he couldn't really describe. Maybe it was because international break put him in a good mood, or maybe it was the fresh air and early summer sun. He reminds himself to tell Marco that his friend had texted him in the morning, and then swiftly falls asleep.

He wakes up when the sunlight finally hits his face, still on the couch and still with a crick in his neck, and wondered why he didn't move to a bed at any point during the night. Oh yeah, I was waiting for the group to come home. I must have fallen asleep, Bastian concludes.

The smell of food cooking shakes him out of his thoughts, and quickly he finds himself wandering towards the kitchen. Mats was standing over the stovetop, concentrating hard as he dealt with whatever was in the pan, and Mario (Götze, unsurprisingly) sat at the kitchen table, setting down two plates.

"When they'd come home last night?" Mats asks, directed towards Bastian without even turning in his direction. Bastian shrugs even though the other man isn't looking.

"I dunno. I fell asleep pretty quickly." Bastian says, fiddling with the cap to a salt shaker. "Ask Lukas, he was awake for longer than me."

At that moment Lukas shuffles into the kitchen with his customary gigantic smile. "You called?"

Bastian rolled his eyes. "Lukas, when did the group come home? You were awake for longer than me."

Lukas furrows his brow, and Bastian and Mats look at each other nervously. Mario continued to play candy crush on his phone, ignoring the situation at hand. Lukas shakes his head, normally positive expression falling from his face. "Uh, I didn't see them. Maybe they slipped in after we both fell asleep?"

Mats and Bastian's worried expressions only increase. With a hint of slight panic in his voice, Mats speaks. "Maybe we should ask Benni? He likes staying up late."

Bastian nods, but has a feeling that no one knew where they were. He notifies the others that he's going to speak to Benedikt, and walks off to the man's room. Mats and Lukas look at each other, sharing their own look of worry.

Benedikt is fast asleep when Bastian enters, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket and looking particularly peaceful. Bastian shakes him awake, and the younger man pops up in surprise, staring at the blonde with wide eyes. "Huh?"

"Benni," Bastian says, speaking slowly. "did you see anyone come into the inn last night? And by anyone, I mean our missing teammates."

Benedikt, still sleepy, looks thoughtful for a few good seconds. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean, I was in my room though. Could easily have slipped past me."

Bastian sighs, standing up fully and getting away from the defender's bed. Benedikt looked at him, surprised with how stressed the older man looked. "Have you tried checking their rooms?" he asks, hoping to dissipate some of Bastian's stress.

Bastian nods, getting up to go check his missing teammates rooms. No, they're all empty, all of them. He can feel the beginnings of panic to rise up his esophagus. What can he saw to Löw? What can he do?

\----

Thomas wakes up feeling like absolute death. His throat is dry and feels like he had swallowed molten magma. Over all he feels overly warm and dry and wrong. It's as if he had left his body during the night and had only just slipped back in, but not perfectly.

With wavering arms, he struggles to push himself up. Water. He desperately needed water. Thomas tries to croak out a plea for water, weakly forcing oxygen through tired and non functioning vocal cords. It sounds more like crows rustling through rows of corn than a human noise.

Then he feels a shadow pass over him, and knows someone is there. The someone pulls him up to his knees, and he sees the woman from the night before. She bends down to his level, and only then does he notice what is in her hands. It is a wooden bowl, swashing full of water. She offers him a cup of it and hungrily he takes it.

Having finally wetted his throat, he finds some more energy in his muscles. How dehydrated had he been? The woman, with bright eyes the color of the sun shining through leaves, smiles at him, running a hand through her hair. She speaks with an accent that is not foreign but not like anything he has ever heard. "So, what is your name?"

Thomas's voice still doesn't sound normal, but his words are intelligible. It sounds like he was a knockoff Tom Waits, or if the barking of mid sized dogs were personified. "I'm Thomas," he manages out, and then realizes in horror that no, no this was not a dream, last night had happened. "please tell me you'll let me go."

The lady laughs, and it sounds like the tinkling of a wind chime. She finds his desperation funny. "Why would you want to go? It's so bad out there!"

Thomas squints his eyes. The girl before him is undoubtably beautiful, with pale skin that is unblemished and graceful features, but there is something unsettling about her. "I have a family out there, and friends. I'm needed."

The woman places a hand on his arm, and it's first completely freezing, and then slightly warm. She tilts her head slightly, auburn golden hair following about her face. "But it's no good out there. Look at you, you look so unhealthy."

Thomas looks at himself. Yeah, he'd always been awkwardly lanky and thin, but the only reason why she'd find him unhealthy was the trauma he'd been through in the past twelve hours, from her people. "No. Please, let me go. I need to go home, and my friends need to go home too."

He shakily rises to his legs, but knows that he does not have the energy to flee or escape. The woman laughs again, shaking her head. She takes him by the hand, and leads him out of the cabin. He notices that there is a small engraving of a rising sun in the middle of the front board on the house. Thomas gulps, and hopes that she's not leading him to his death.

Marco watches the entire encounter out of the corner of his good eye. The other is still plenty swollen, bruised and purple and unable to open completely. He slowly shifts up, then half drags, half crawls over to the water. It's cool and refreshing, and his spirits are left a little brighter after drinking.

He tries to think about a way out, but there is no feasible way he could see himself and the others leaving without Thomas. They were in this together. Unhappily, he thought about what he could have been doing if he were not trapped out in the woods by a band of not entirely human cultists.

His thoughts drift over to how he could be playing apples to apples with Mesut and the Julians, or how he could be texting Auba. Auba. He feels his heart clench tightly. Marco tries to back out of the thoughts, but it's too late. He's fallen into a pit of despair, and all he can think about his how he misses his friends and how horrible it'd be if he died out here, or never got back, never got to see his friends or Auba or his mom ever again.

He doesn't notice it, but he's making sounds that seem an awful lot like crying, and Sami has definitely heard them. The taller man wraps an arm around Marco, trying to be consoling, which was particularly hard when you're stranded out in the middle of nowhere by nonhumans who have deemed you to be unfit for existence.

"Marco, are you alright?" Sami asks, and Marco feels like shit for worrying the other man. There were more important things, like planning an escape, or figuring out where they took Thomas, or finding Julian and Max.

Marco nods, and Sami lets him go. As he does this, a man enters the cabin, gesturing for them to follow him. Sami thinks there's something off about the man, who is covered in a light layer of blonde hair, and who's eyes were more iris than white. He exchanges a look with Marco, who nods as if to say "yeah I see it too".

The strange man leads them to a small table, where Thomas is sitting with the woman from last night. She smiles at both of them, then at the man guiding them. "Thank you Rafael," she then fully directs her attention to Marco and Sami. "You two sleep alright?"

Marco clenches his jaw so tightly that his teeth might have cracked. He can feel his pulse beating through his temples, and knows being angry won't help, but that doesn't stop the rage in his veins. Sami talks instead. "Please tell us we'll leave."

The woman looks confused. Marco decides he hates her. "Why are you so insistent on leaving today of all days?"

"What's wrong with leaving today?" Sami asks, and Marco wonders how he can stay so put together.

The woman looks at him as if he is crazy. She then looks to Marco and Thomas, who both hold the same "are you shitting me" expression. "Do you really not know? Today is the most holy day of them all. We pay our respects to the gods today, for their creation of this land."

In the back of Sami's head, a tiny voice says "oh shit, she's crazy", but he knows that that won't help him in trying to leave. He must stay diplomatic. "Look, I'm sorry, but we don't have the same religion as you. We don't worship the same gods. We need to leave."

Just then, another woman, this one with golden skin and hair that had an iridescent quality to it, for it was impossible to see what color it truly was, waltzed up to the table. Her smile showed off sharp teeth and was far more predatory than Thomas was okay with. She placed her hands on Sami's shoulders, pressing sharp nails into them.

"Is it alright if I take him?" she asks to the woman sitting at the table with the three footballers. The woman nods happily, and the standing lady looks down at Sami. "Why hello there."

Sami gulps. She beckons him to leave, and then ushers him from the table, sauntering away. Thomas frowns, looking over to the two people sitting with him. "Sami's not gonna die, right?"

The woman with green eyes shakes her head. Thomas exchanges a worried look with Marco, and prays that things'll end up fine.

\----

Bastian has been worried before. He was terrified the day before his first game for Germany. He was stressed before dates back when he was younger and not in a relationship. But nothing compared to this. Losing games was tolerable, and fucking up dates was something he could move on from. The disappearance of five teammates, all of which he felt responsible for, was far less livable.

Still, Lukas hugged him, sitting on the floor of their shared room, and told him that it wasn't his fault. It sure felt like it, but Lukas wrapping his arms around him and holding him close was nice, so he didn't protest. He keeps himself pressed up to the other man's chest, feeling his lungs move and his heart pump steadily, and tries to breath slowly.

"You're not responsible for this, you know." Lukas says, softly, and it's more gentle than how he usually is.

"Yeah, but what happened to them? They aren't home, they probably got kidnapped or eaten by wolves or worse." Bastian says, and the small sense of calm that he'd been building up shatters.

Lukas pushes him away so he can look at him in the eyes. Bastian stares at him, worry etched deeply into all of his features. Lukas's eyes aren't bright how they usually are, softer now with big pupils and furrowed brows. Subconsciously, he leans in, and his face is close to Bastian's again. He can feel Lukas's breath fanning against his cheekbones, and steadies himself.

"Freaking out isn't gonna help anything." He says, half to try and help Bastian, and half to help himself. He'd known Bastian for years and years and years, but his heart still jack hammered viciously in his chest from the close proximity.

Bastian thinks about it, and Lukas is right. He's genuinely happy Lukas is there for him now, but he's always happy when Lukas is around. How lucky he was to have him, someone who always cared and was close at all the right times. And like they'd done for God knows how long, he shut his eyes and closed the space between the two.

Lukas is very glad he'd locked the door as Bastian pulls him down to fall on top of him, lying on the floor and giggling. He'd rather not be caught in a compromising position, straddling his teammate like how one would a high school girlfriend.

\----

The woman had taken Sami to a tent that smelled like rosemary and eucalyptus, and gave him strange looks the entire way. Sami frowns as she seemingly flirts with him. The woman was pretty, yes, but her eyes were like those of a canine, a dog or fox.

She makes him sit down at a table, smiling widely as she approaches. Sami feels fantastically uneasy, and wonders what he'd done to deserve getting put in this situation. Was she going to kill him?

He remembers part of the Odessy that he'd read in high school. As I lay dying the woman with dog eyes would not close my eyes for me. He shuddered. The woman was busy fiddling with something in a drawer, and it only builds upon that uneasy feeling.

"Here we are." The lady says, holding up a white cotton button down shirt. "You'll look fantastic."

Sami wants to ask why, thinks it's better not to ask. The lady pouts, as if she's reacting to his thoughts.

"Why?" the dog eyed woman says. Maybe she could read his thoughts. "You don't know too much about the gods, do you?"

Sami didn't. His parents were muslim, and had raised them with his faith. He didn't even know that anyone in Germany belonged to a polytheistic religion, or that one existed here. He wills his voice steady and tries to sound confident. "I'm afraid not. Care to explain?"

The woman smiled again, swinging her hips as she walked back towards Sami. "Of course. Today is the day that our creator, the dual faced one, Czernobog and Bielbog, made the earth. He made man, and made days for man, and told them when to thank him. And thank him we do. We are a faithful people."

Sami doesn't like where this was going. Generally, about now was when the bad guys mentioned human sacrifice. "And you are going to do what?"

He decides that the dog eyed woman is pretty despite her eyes, but still, so eerie. She looks at him and waits expectantly for him to change shirts. He does, and then looks back at her, waiting for her to speak. "What? What we'll do to celebrate the creation of the earth?" Sami nods. "Ah. We'll bring him gifts."

Sami frowns. He has a bad feeling about all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to you if you can get the references to the Island of Dr Moreau and American Gods. The two books inspired me, both are fantastic novels.  
> Your comments are appreciated.


	3. last kind words

Max squeaks, huddling himself up in the corner of this new house. It was not the same one that he was in during the night; this one was smaller and more rickety. He tries to keep his breathing slow, to stay calm, but his hands still tremble.

He eyes the door, hoping that this will give him an avenue of escape. No one passes by, and there's no lock on it. Scrambling forward, he dashes to the door, and swings it open. Light floods in, making him squint his eyes and he breaths in the cooler air deeply.

When his eyes finally adjust to the brightness, he sees a large man walking towards him. Before he knows it, the man is swinging a fist into him, and then another. Crumpled on the ground, he looks up, and wonders if this is the end; a strange man beating him up for unknown reasons.

He hears the old woman from last night's voice, and wonders if he's hallucinating. She says something to the large man, and he backs away from Max. Then, she squats down to eye level with Max, and helps him up to his feet. It's shaky, but eventually regains his footing, almost pulling her down in the process.

Max wants to thank her from saving her from more injury, but there's blood in his throat and all he can do is cough. She looks at him with sympathy, cradling his head in her warm hands for a few seconds, then leads him back into the small wooden house.

Julian is there too, wrapped up neatly in a furry blanket and looking all too content. Max frowns, why was he the one dumb enough go out and get nearly killed? Why was Julian living in the lap of luxury compared to him?

The lady tells him, in her gravelly voice, to stay put, and that she'd get him breakfast. She returns minutes later with bowls of oatmeal. Max and Julian dig in, wondering how long it'd been since they ate (it'd been at six pm, when they still knew where they were, and Julian feels a pang of homesickness in his stomach).

"You two boys are very lucky." The woman says, her mouth revealing crooked teeth. Max snorts. Lucky is not what he'd call himself, not with this turn of events.

"How so?" Julian asks, eyes still bright. Max frowns around a mouthful of oatmeal, still thinking about the injustice of it all. How had Julian been left next to untouched when he'd gotten the worse end of the stick twice?

The old lady looks at Julian, and then at Max. "It's a holy day today, and you will get to be part of the celebrations! Isn't that fun?"

Julian and Max share a look of pure, wide eyed terror.

\----

Manuel lay tangled up in his covers, staring up blankly at the ceiling. He could see Thomas's empty bed in his peripheral vision, and regrets choosing to share a room with the other man. Immediately he regrets thinking that such a lie; he loved being around Thomas, it was the not being around that he hated. His stomach churned and he felt unwell, now he understood why parents said "worried sick".

The door to his room creaks open, and Benedikt pokes his head in. "Hey," he says, then shuffles the rest of his body into the room. "People are worried about you."

Manuel rolls onto his stomach and makes dying whale noises. He knows Benedikt is rolling his eyes, but he's past the point of caring. Thomas is gone. "Let them worry."

The bed dips down, and he turns to see Benedikt sitting down beside him. The man tries to be soothing, giving him a pleasant facial expression. "I know you care about Thomas, but lying in bed all day and whining isn't going to get him back."

Manuel frowns deeply. "Let me! It's not even that late."

"Manu, it's 11."

 _Oh_. He pushes himself up into a seating position. Benedikt awkwardly pats his shoulder, and speaks again. "We can go look him again for him now that it's bright out." His heart sinks even lower in his chest.

Manuel does not want to meet Benedikt's eyes. He doesn't want to get out of bed either. He's not sure what's worse; not ever finding Thomas, or finding his corpse. There is the off chance that he's alive, but Manuel knows thinking about it will get his hopes up, and he knows he could never recover from them being crushed. He can feel tears slipping down his cheeks. "Yeah, we can do that."

Benedikt hugs him, and looks fantastically concerned. There's worry in his voice, and his eyebrows are furrowed. "Manuel, it's gonna be alright."

Instantly he knows he's said the wrong thing. Manuel jerks his head up, both angry and saddened. He's still crying, but it's angry crying now. "It's gonna be alright? Are you kidding me? That's the exact opposite of what it is!"

Bastian and Lukas, standing outside of the room, look at each other. Bastian seems worried, and Lukas's expression is equally concerned. "I should've gone in there instead."

Bastian narrows his eyes comically. While Benedikt might not have been the right candidate, he'd take his chances with him comforting Manuel over Lukas's. "No way!"

Lukas mirrors Bastian's concerned face. "Why not? I'm fantastic at comforting you!"

Bastian thinks about how Lukas could always calm him down, then swiftly blinks the thoughts away. His methods are a little more intimate than he'd like for Manuel. "Lukas, I love you, but you're too goofy to help him."

Lukas pouts comically. They both step away from the door, and hope that Benedikt can get himself out of this. Manuel was rarely angry, but when he was it was a little more than terrifying. Lukas wanders back to his bedroom, and flops onto his own bed. It's raining gently outside, and he frowns. He wanted to enjoy the outdoors today.

Bastian follows him into the room, smiling as he closed the door shut with his back. Lukas looks up from his bed, raising an eyebrow. Bastian wiggles his back in response, giggling. He saunters (or tries to, but he finds that sauntering with grace isn't as simple as the make it in the movies) over to Lukas.

"What are you doing?" Lukas asks, confused. Bastian hops on top of him, still smiling. Lukas thinks he gets the message, then wheezes. "Get off! You're killing me."

Bastian frowns, and makes no moves to remove himself. "How so?"

Lukas tries to push Bastian up off of him by the hips, but the other man is plenty insistent on staying where he is. He groans. "You weigh too much. You're killing me."

Bastian rolls his eyes, and shifts around, at least less on Lukas's lungs. Still, not making any moves to stop crushing his teammate. "You're on top of me all the time and I don't complain!"

Lukas makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like a cartoon squeak. Bastian chuckles, and shifts around again, lower even further this time. Lukas looks only a little uncomfortable, face swiftly growing red. Bastian looks to where he has been shuffling about, and gets an idea of what is going on. He keeps himself planted where he was, and leans in and--

"Ahem." Toni says in a small voice.

Lukas and Bastian break apart, staring at him with wide eyes. Any R rated thoughts were instantly destroyed. Toni's face is as red as both of theirs, and he sets down his book awkwardly. Lukas had completely forgotten that he shared a room with someone.

"I should probably go." Bastian and Toni say at the same time. Lukas covers his face with his hands, and mentally reminds himself to personally apologize to Toni later in the day.

\----

The woman with dog eyes smiled at Sami for quite possibly the thousandth time. Her features were dazzling, yes, but her teeth were too sharp and her eyes inhuman, and frankly, it terrified Sami. He wanted nothing to do with her, but yet here he was, stuck in the tent with rain pattering outside.

She offers him food, but he declines, despite his stomach rumbling and despite how good it looks. He wants to distance himself from her as much as possible, but he he was wearing the shirt she gave him and sitting with her, and it disgusts him.

Once again she leans close to him, and he can smell the perfume that she wears. It's patchouli and sage and something lemony, and honestly smells beautiful, but it still terrifies him. "Please eat," she purrs, seductive as always.

Sami shakes his head, and she repeats the words, offering him the plate. He pushes it away, and takes a step back.

"Why won't you eat?" she begs.

Sami wills himself to not think about the subject at hand and ask the dog eyed lady a different question. "Who are you?"

She looks shocked, as if he'd wronged her. "I'm Sheba," she says, voice now a mixture of surprise and sultry, which is something Sami has never even thought of hearing before. "the ruler of this land."

Sami raises a brow. "Ruler?"

Sheba looks even more surprised, staring at him as if he were inhuman. "Queen, leader, ruler, it's all the same. How didn't you know?"

Sami doesn't know what to say. "Again, not from here. Kinda new to all of this."

The dog eyes woman still looks horrified. She places a delicate hand on his shoulder, and only now does he notice the intricate stitch work on her sleeve. The thin, lacy string morphs from abstract patterns to trees, then foxes and mirrors, and it seems to shift eternally. She then removes her hand, and presses two fingers on his forehead.

Then Sami sees. There is war, not modern at all. Spears, swords and blood are everywhere. Bodies litter the floor. There are crows circling high in the sky, as if imitating buzzards. Their caws are ear splittingly loud, but praising, so victorious and defiant.

A woman stands atop the hill, with flowing dark hair and eyes just like those of a dog's. She murmurs words in a language that Sami has never heard before. The heavens break open, and the heads of gods are visible. Their eyes are dull and dead. Sami feels fear in its purest sense.

"Do you understand?" She asks, removing her hand. Sami shakes his head bluntly. The images were frightening, and spoke to him of leadership, but he did not know why she showed them to him.

Again, her hand presses on his forehead, and now he sees a fertile landscape. Without touching anything he knows the dirt is fluffy and capable of holding life, and the leaves are soft and bright green. Animals coo and cackle, living amongst the people, who tend to their crops planted deeply in the ground.

The people are not fully human, just like Sheba and the others he'd seen at the trial. Some, like the girl from the morning, were plantlike and delicate, with leaves in their hair and green eyes. Others were more animal, some with pelts and others with the heads of beasts or too sharp teeth or body parts that just weren't right. The menagerie of these strange things lived in harmony, and at night they sung to the moon.

The gods shone in the stars; Czernobog, the crooked one, who was both a nebulae of darkness with bright eyes and a old man with a heavy hammer at the same time; Bielbog, a young man who looked an awful lot like Thomas but also was the rising sun and the bright early stars. The earth was both new and ancient, and the stars, the oceans, the forests and fields and farmlands all hummed the same tune, sang the same song.

Czernobog's words came from the skulls under the earth. They spoke of repayment. Once a year, the foreigner's blood shall be spilt to keep the earth pure, to ensure fertility of the soil and healthiness of children.

That is when he saw it. Sheba and a figure too far away to be recognizable stand at the edge of the clearing. Two men, one blonde and the other brunette, are hung from the tall rocks either end of the circle. Their bodies are limp and lifeless. A third man is tied to the northernmost rock, a flame licking up the rock and threatening to char his flesh. The fourth man kneels down, head over the large center most rock, and blood spills out of it, running through the carved patterns in the rock.

Again he can hear the eerie voices of the goat headed men. "Accept it, accept it." He shudders and pulls away.

He is so thankful as her hand disconnects from his skin. He gets it now, and is frankly creeped out. "Alright! I know now. What do I have to do?"

Sheba is already swishing out of the tent when he asks her these words. He sighs, looking down at himself. If only she could explain the things he knew. Strangely enough, he felt like he was there less. He looked the same, but felt lighter, as if he were hollow inside.

He shuddered. He didn't like this, not one bit.

\----

Auba was not having a peaceful morning. Since the bad dream he had had, a pervasive sense of impending doom followed him, and it didn't help that Marco wasn't returning calls.

It makes it even better when his phone lights up with Marco's caller ID though. Eagerly he swipes "accept" and presses the phone to his ear.

"Hey," a voice that is Definitely Not Marco says awkwardly. "This isn't Marco but--"

No shit, Auba thinks. He knows Marco well, and could tell if it were or weren't. The voice continues, and asks him if he's talked to Marco as of late. "No, I texted him late last night, but no response."

The voice over the line sounds disappointed, and then Auba realizes he knows who it is. A Real Madrid player. Toni Kroos. "I'm sorry. He went missing, and we've been trying to find him. Thought maybe you'd know."

Auba feels his breath hitch in his throat. Missing? His heartbeat picks up. "How long has he been gone?"

Toni's voice is clearly stressed, just like Auba's. "A while now. Since 6pm, I think. He walked into the woods and he's been gone the entire night."

Auba instantly remembers that horrid dream, Marco's head bloodied in his lap, and the tall tall trees. He feels like his heart is snapping in two. Lord no. Not Marco.

"I'm sorry. Good luck finding him! Please call me when you do." He says as politely as possible, then hangs up on Toni with a quivering voice and shaking hands. He can't imagine Dortmund without Marco, or spending Friday evenings without Marco, or just not seeing Marco every day in general.

He stays in his house, head held tightly in his hands and trying hard to breath steadily, for a long while. He finds it almost harder to keep it together during Gabon's practice, and his teammates notice his poor mood.

He prays that Marco is alright.

Marco, far away, feels something warm in his chest at the same time. He's currently standing at the edge of the woods, peering back into the circular clearing. With dappled summer sunlight and only a slight breeze, it's far less ominous than at night. Still, he feels deeply unsettled as he looks over the rock formation. There is a profound wrongness about it despite the beauty of the thing.

"So it all happens here?" Thomas asks, and Marco nods. There are no good emotions about their stay here, and Marco would rather leave as soon as possible. Nothing beneficial can come from being in this land.

"Do you think," Marco starts, shifting his focus from the rocks to Thomas "do you think that the others are looking for us?"

Thomas is sitting down in the grass, breeze fluttering through his hair. The grass laps at his waist and feet, and the image is peaceful save for the blank expression in his eyes. Thomas looks like a man who is ready to die. "I hope so."

Marco sits down too, next to Thomas but not very close. "I wonder if they noticed."

"They had to, right?" Thomas asks, and there's a pained look in his eyes. Marco wishes he knew.

Unbeknownst to them, their teammates were not too far away. Toni, Manuel, Bastian, Lukas, Benedikt and Mesut all walked through the woods, looking for any signs of their friends. There seemed to be absolutely nothing. No defined footprints, no dropped items or signs left. There were no bodies or blood, which Benedikt was thankful for, as it gave him the "heebie-jeebies".

Strolling down something that may have possibly once been a path at some point, Toni squats down to examine something reflective nestled in the grass. It's a ziplock bag, the crust of a sandwich left inside. He squishes it in his hand, dropping the crust for animals to eat and pocketing the bag.

"You find something?" Manuel asks, excited.

Toni frowns. Well, he did find something. "Yeah, a ziplock bag with a sandwich crust in it."

Bastian looks at the two. "I think it's Julian's! He left the inn with a sandwich."

Lukas compliments him for his "fantastic memory". Bastian ignores him, and continues to search while Manuel rushes over to Toni to look for more signs. Unfortunately, the ziplock bag seems to be the only thing they were able to find.

Mesut, by some force of habit, finds himself wandering from the group. He has long left the path, sidestepping trees and hopping over low lying shrubbery. He can still see the others when he looks back, but his focus is more on navigating through the forest. He decides hiking is nice, and vows to do it more in his off time.

Then, in a second though, thinks how nice it would be to go hiking with Mathieu. The opportunities were endless. They could explore the English countryside, or go to Stonehenge, or-- He is snapped out of his thoughts by a lack of trees.

He stands at the edge of a circular clearing, with a strange grouping of rocks in the center. There are tall, thin rocks making a circle, with one large, squat rock in the center. Intricate patterns, knots and loops and glyphs were carved into it. It was both beautiful and unsettling. The forest is so dense around the clearing that he cannot see into it at all, just a sense tangle of flora.

Mesut is suddenly distracted by something leaping in his peripheral vision. He whips around to see what it is, and is delighted with the presence of a fully grown, elegant deer. It's antlers are practically a crown, and Mesut is instantly mesmerized as it bounds off. He jogs away from the clearing, to tell the others about what he had seen: both the rocks and the deer.

"We saw the deer." Benedikt says.

Bastian looks both amused and disappointed. "Lukas took a selfie with it."

Lukas thrusts his phone out for proof. Indeed, his face is there in the corner, and the deer takes up most of the frame. Mesut now understands Bastian's disappointment.

"Okay, yeah there was a deer, but what else did you see?" asks Manuel impatiently.

"I saw a clearing with rocks in it. It was pretty cool, but I don't know if it has anything to do with the guys." Mesut explains. Toni nods, clearly interested.

Mesut leads them back to where he was, but there is no clearing. He takes an alternate route. No clearing. A third try is equally unfruitful. His teammates are starting to look at him weird, and Mesut is starting to wonder if he'd imagined the entire thing.

"Mesut, are you sure where we're going?" Toni asks, and Mesut is unsure of what to say.

"I don't know. I swear I saw it, but I can't find it anymore!"

Toni frowns, stopping his walk to think about what to do. "Maybe we should split up to cover more ground."

The group nods in collective agreement, and split into twos and threes to scout more of the forest.

\----

The sun is starting it's descent in the sky, moving further west. Afternoon, Max thinks, remembering all two months of Boy Scouts he did back when he was eight. The elderly woman had lead them around the village, taken them to visit many people, none of which completely human. Every once in a while they get a glimpse of Thomas, Marco, or Sami, but it's always fleeting and they're jerked away before they can communicate.

Now they sit back down on the porch, waiting for lord knows what. The elderly lady was not too far away, and mixing something in a bowl. Julian was about to ask her what was going on, when a deer came hopping through the village. During one particularly high bound, the deer seems to convulse and twist.

Before their very eyes the animal changed into a man, or mostly a man. It still retained the head of a deer, but from the shoulders down it was a man cloaked in deer skin. It approached the elderly woman, who smiled and looked up.

"Ah, Cernunnos, good to see you," she says, smiling wide to reveal her crooked teeth.

The deer headed man nods. "Aveta, I bring bad news." he pauses, looking at the old woman and then at the two young Germans. "Men are in these woods. I hid us, and they should be gone soon."

The old woman, Aveta, smiles and nods again. "You worry too much. It will be fine. Just get ready to celebrate!" Her voice is full of cheer.

She stands up, walking back towards Julian and Max with the bowl. It is full of a blue paste, and it'd scare the two teens if her smile weren't so reassuring. The deer headed man bounds away, back in the form of a deer.

"There are people here?" Julian asks excitedly. Perhaps it was their friends. Max tries to keep his hopes from getting up, but he understands Julian's emotions.

The woman chuckles, shaking her head. "Pshh, there are so many tourists here. And really, he's too paranoid for his own good. I swear, I think he sees people half the time when they aren't there."

Julian and Max look at each other. Julian's expression is still bright, but now faltering. Max mouths out the words "don't get too excited", and Julian frowns. They turn back to the old woman in unison, trying to keep neutral expressions.

The old woman holds up the bowl full of blue. "You're going to join in on the celebrations." She then gestures to both of them. "Take off your shirts."

There isn't really another option, so they comply. The woman continues to appear pleasant, and then dips a brush into the blue paste. Julian remembers a history class: Gaulish tribes painted themselves blue with woad.

Aveta, with ancient but deliberate expression on her face, begins to draw the patterns on their chests and arms. She is painstakingly slow, making sure every line and swirl is perfect. The patterns are complex and made up of all different kinds of lines and shapes. It is mesmerizing to watch as they are slowly covered in the blue, almost as if they had left their bodies to properly view the whole thing.

The elderly woman does not talk much as she works, but she hums and sings wordless tunes. They are in scales and progressions that the two had never heard before, and if there were words to the songs, they were not in a language they knew. The melodies and harmonies were haunting, sure to get stuck in their heads and never leave.

Time passes incredibly slowly, or perhaps just a large quantity of time has passed. Eventually they are painted to Aveta's satisfaction, as she pulls away to better admire her handiwork. "Good job staying still," she says.

She leaves once again minutes later, and for seemingly the thousandth time, it is just Julian and Max. Max turns to his friend, cracking a half smile. "Well, this sure is bonding."

"I don't think this is the strategy Jogi wanted to employ." Julian riffs, mirroring the expression. There's less pain in his eyes though, but it is probably result of the fact that he wasn't the one beaten up twice.

The two look back up to the sky. The sun is lower now, and they try to make a game out of guessing the time. Far away, walking back towards the inn, Mesut checks his watch. 5:30. He frowns, remembering that this completely eliminated his chances of being able to Skype Mathieu until 10 PM.

Manuel stands next to him, peering over his shoulder, which was an easy feat considering his height. He frowns too, but for far different reasons than Mesut. His nerves had only been getting worse. His vocal cords feel all tight and squeaky, and he knows that if he tries talking right now he'll sound like he's about to cry.

Toni looks over at him, and places a hand up on his shoulder. "Lukas called the cops a half hour ago, they're getting a search party together."

Manuel nods, but it doesn't make him feel much better. His teammates' eyes are deep and sad, all focusing on him. He knows they feel bad too, but he's still caught up in his own loss.

"We did what we could, Manuel." Bastian says.

Lukas nods, right next to the blonde. "I'm so sorry. We all are."

They walk back to the inn, forming a group of sorts around Manuel. Even Mesut, generally shy, offers some words of comfort to the tall German. Before he actually enters the building, hand on the doorframe, he turns back to look at the woods one last time.

He prays to whoever will listen.

\----

The woman with dog eyes has been bustling about for what seems like hours now. She takes Sami with her wherever she goes, as if he is some new trinket to show off. Standing in the strange tent once again, she puts herself close to him.

"I'm sure you're starving, darling. Please have some food," she coos, gesturing over to a plate with rolls of bread on it. They look soft and perfect, each a rectangular little pillow.

Sami eyes the plate cautiously. Indeed, he was hungry. He hadn't eaten in what, twenty four hours now? Still, he didn't trust this lady, and he didn't trust the food she offered him. He felt a little nauseous now, from not eating for so long, but decides that he can hold out for a while longer now.

"I'm alright honestly."

The lady frowns sharply, turning away from him on her heel. She faces the front opening of the tent, back towards Sami. "Well that was your last chance. We'll have to go soon."

Within minutes she whisked him away, the flowers woven into her hair swaying with her long, dark brown locks as she dragged him further away from the tent. Into the village they went, passing by people that seemed to inhabit the uncanny valley. Quickly, they exited the village, now deep into the forest, where the trees seem to move away, parting for them.

Soon they are in a familiar clearing. The people of the village seem to be swarming in the woods, approaching slowly through the trees. The dog eyed woman leads him to a spot in front of the rock circle, and there is a worried expression on her face.

"Sweetheart," she says, and Sami winces. He doesn't like being called that "please have some food. You don't look well."

Sami looks down at his hands, and indeed, something is off. His body seems to slowly becoming transparent, and he can vaguely see the ground through his hands. Taking a deep breath, the German tried to stay calm. He wanted nothing to do with this lady. "I'm fine."

Worry still shines in the woman's canine eyes, but before she can say anything, the strange grey woman approaches her. The Sayer of the Law's face is unkind, and her expression is stony. She guides Sami and the other lady to tall chairs, instructing the two to sit on one side of her. The two goat headed men sit on her right side, and are even more terrifying this close up.

In such a proximity, Sami can really see every detail, every hair on their faces. Now he knew why goats were associated with Satan.

You don't look too well, brother. One says, or seems to say. His mouth does not move, and his voice is strange and tinny. The other goat man turns to face the first one, then Sami. You won't be here for very long at this rate.

"At this rate?" Sami echoes, and the two men turn to look at each other. They tilt their heads side to side, mirroring one another, conversing without words. Eventually the focus their attention back on Sami.

You're fading away. Not enough of you is here.

Sami's expression must say enough to spurn the other one to talk. Even though he is very close, his voice sounds very far away. Your people don't belong here. You haven't taken anything from here, so it is hard to stay.

The Sayer Of the Law frowns at the two goat men, who are still deeply unsettling. She commands them to hush, and the duo nod quickly and in unison. "We're starting!"

Drums beat, or the earth is beaten, or both slam thunderously, and the sky is full of static electricity, potential energy. The world seems simultaneously full and empty, shaking without moving as the sky turns tumultuous colors. The rocks in the circle are taller now, thin, reaching to the sky and imposing.

Then Sami sees it. Nooses hang from two of the rocks in the circle. Max and Julian stand with their backs to these rocks, eyes wide and terrified. Painted patterns swirl over their bodies, going over bruises and scrapes, and both are shaking in fear. Two tall men loop the nooses around their necks.

Thomas is tied to a third tall rock in the outer circle. Wood is piled beneath, reaching almost to his feet. There is a peaceful expression on his face despite the fact that he stares straight ahead with dead eyes. His mouth moves in silent prayer.

Marco is there too, kneeling over the rock in the middle of the circle. His hands are bound tightly in front of him, and his head is bowed, hair flopping down to shield his face. His knees are planted in the grass, he barely moves now.

The drums stop thumping for a moment, and all is silent. The air is still. There is not even the sound of wind or insects. Then, the incessant drumming picks up again, at a faster pace, and voices join the mix. Men in the bones and carcasses of animals come out, and the dog eyed woman grips Sami's hand tightly.

Marco looks up. He sees the people lift up Julian and Max, both in nooses. The whole thing would be unsettling, if it were not for the adrenaline pounding through his veins. His heart slams in his throat and his chest, even when he sees Sami sitting far ahead of him. The German looks worried and helpless, though if Marco thought about it, all of them were. He can see the trees through Sami, as if the man is flickering in and out of existence. Marco gulps.

The song seems to pick up, and the fire under Thomas lights all on its own. The flames lick up the rock, almost touching the man above them. Thomas will burn alive swiftly at this rate.

There are other problems at hand. Julian and Max are slowly asphyxiating, and a man with the skull of a bull on his head is quickly approaching Marco. There is a large rock in his hands.

Marco looks up. He sees the eyes of the man through the bull skull, shiny and large. The rock in his hands is massive, heavy and with jagged edges. He raises it above his head slowly, ready to slam it down. Marco knows it will crush his skull.

He squints his eyes shut tight, time seeming to go in slow motion. In his mind's eye, he can see his head being crushed, blood raining down on the rock in heavy rivulets. Around him is death, Julian and Max swaying in the wind without air, and Thomas consumed by flames.

He opens his eyes again. The air is still. The rock has yet to come down crashing on his head, and Marco takes this last second to look up at the sky. It is a flat deep indigo, freckled with stars, framed by the tops of slowly swaying trees. He thinks to himself that this will be the last thing he'll ever see.

Strangely enough, he then hears Thomas's voice. There is another voice with it, this one deeper and more rumbley. _"It's easy, there's a trick to it, you do it or you die."_

Marco clenches his fists, and the world seems to ripple. There is a small wrinkle in the air, and he fixates on it as the rock comes down. It's easy, there's a trick to it, you do it or you die. He can see what is around him, the clearing and the forest, the stars, the sky and the swarming people dressed in the skins of animals. Then, he sees a desert, with spiraling rocks reaching up to the heavens, buffalo glimmering with ethereal pinpoints of light. Auba is there, dressed in all white, and he embraces Marco. Tears slip down both of their faces, and the wind picks up, swirling around them. Blue light illuminates their skin, glowing with the stars as if they sky reflected upon them.

As the rock touches his head, it shatters, turns to dust. The flame goes out, and the nooses unravel. The man before him turns to leaves, and world seems to evaporate.

Marco is left heaving for breath on the ground. His hands are no longer bound, but his vision is blurry. He can't seem to focus his eyes on one thing, so he chooses to close them and try to take air in normally again.

Slowly the others approach him. Thomas is the first, barely burnt by the fire, and places his hands on Marco's shoulders, turning his over onto his back. Sami is next, no longer fading from existence. He stares at Marco, and then Thomas, and then at the rocks in the outer circle that are once again small and unassuming.

Julian and Max are by far the last. Both sit on the ground, regaining oxygen and rubbing their throats where rope had chafed. Eventually they too circle around Marco.

The blonde slowly opens his eyes to see the others. "Wow, what was that?"

Sami looks incredulous. "We all nearly die and that's all you can say?"

Thomas rolls his eyes. "I mean, it was pretty spectacular."

Max and Julian look at each other, and then the other three. Both would rather not speak, just breath, and be happy that they can. They watch as Marco is helped up to his feet, and then sits down on the rock.

"How'd you manage that?" Max eventually croaks, and then winces at the sound of his own voice.

Marco's expression is bright. "Oh, it's easy, there's a trick to it."

Thomas fist bumps him, and the two laugh. Sami shakes his head at the two younger athletes. "We should get going," his stomach rumbles awkwardly, "I wanna go home."

Julian nods heavily. "This place gives me the creeps."

\----

By the time they'd made it out of the woods, the sun was nearly set, casting long shadows on the early summer fields. The air carried a slight breeze, and birds sang, insects fluttered about. It was as if the second they'd crossed the tree line they'd entered a world oblivious to the past twenty four hours.

The inn looked even nicer after being away for a day, shining with the last beams of daylight, something that had long faded in the woods. For a second Thomas worried that this was a mirage, or that he was dreaming and soon he'd wake up back in a cold forest tied above a hungry fire. Or maybe that had all been a dream of his own, and they had just taken a small, accidental nap in the woods and had confused a nightmare with reality.

That idea is swiftly dispelled when he sees his own reflection in the glass doors of the inn. He looks under rested and unhealthy, bruises on his body and a scrape on the left side of his face, starting on the cheekbone and climbing up the side of his forehead. The others didn't look any better, with black eyes and their own cuts, bruises and scrapes. Sami's hair looks nowhere as regal as it usually did and his face was a little paler than normal.

It was even stranger to re enter the inn. Everyone was there, going about their daily lives, as if five of their teammates hadn't just disappeared for twenty four hours. Only a thing or two was off, like how Toni was pacing about nervously or Benedikt and Matts trying to console a crying Manuel.

Sami doesn't bother with greetings, not like anyone has really noticed them slip into the building anyways. Instead, he waltzes over into the kitchen, conveniently empty, and begins to look for food. Thomas, Marco, Max and Julian all look at each other, wondering if they should announce their arrival or not.

Just then, Manuel looks up, and makes eye contact with them. He looks surprised, as if he had just seen a ghost, but given the circumstances and the bad shape they were in, that's probably what it looked like. Thomas doesn't bother with a smile, is too tired to lift the corners of his face.

Slowly and wordlessly, their other teammates noticed the presence of their missing friends. Thomas, Marco, Max and Julian stood there, unsure of what to say and unwilling to break the silence.

"Uh, hi?" Thomas says with a small smile.

Manuel stares at him in horror, but everyone seems to be doing that. They all look at each other as if they've seen a ghost. Toni ends up being the first to speak. "Where the fuck were you guys?"

The group look at each other, unsure of what to say. Eventually, Marco decides to offer up some sort of an answer. "We got lost. No data, no signal. It took us a while to find our way back."

Mats furrows his brows. "What about all the scrapes?"

"We fell down. A lot." Julian says. Max touches a cut going through his eyebrow, and winces. Bastian eyes him nervously, like a mother would her son.

Later that night, Marco draws himself a bath, washes the smell of grass and woodsmoke off of him. Eventually it'll all wash away with the dirt that was embedded in his skin and the dried blood from his wounds and the water, swirling down the drain. The water is hot and soapy, stings, but it reminds him that there is a roof over his head again and he is not going to be killed.

He flops onto his bed, the cool linens and sheets nestling around his frame. There's a tiredness deep in his bones, different from how he feels after a game or a heavy training session. With labored movements he elongates his body, stretches to pluck his phone from the night stand.

Out of habit, he opens the skype app, hits up Auba. The Gabonese is more than happy to see his face, and it makes Marco's heartbeat speed up more than a little. For a while, it seems like the earth has slipped back into its usual patterns.

Later that night, he and the others still dream of a dark forest where fires wait to consume them. Half animals, half men chant, and drums pound, crying out to the vast spiderweb of stars in the sky.

As Thomas wakes up in a sweat in the middle of the night, the drums still pounding in his head, he has a feeling that it's something that's going to stick with him for a very long time.

Robert and the others smile at him when he gets back to Bayern, yes, but there's an uneasiness that's settled deep in his bones. He wonders if people notice it, maybe Manuel, who's hugs linger a little too long and who asks him to hang out most Thursday evenings. He tries to play it cool, grins with Manuel and accepts his offers, sits on the couch next to him even when Manuel gets a little too close.

Sometimes when he drives home from hanging out with Manuel he thinks he sees a deer headed man or hears the beats of drums. He'll shake it away.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a while, but I'm only posting it now. I guess this takes place post WC 2014, but pre euros.


End file.
